Same Old, Same Old
by iDisarm
Summary: We were promised no more games. We were promised a better world. We were promised a better life. We were promised a lot of things that they couldn't keep. Now, they continue to host the games that killed so many innocent lives. Does nothing ever change?
1. The Reaping

_-Chapter 1: The Reaping__**-**__  
><em>  
>Nobody expected the announcement for the 76th Hunger Game. We were told that there weren't going to be any more games. We thought that, with the death of the old Capitol president , Snow, things would be different. Innocent lives would be spared.<p>

We were dead wrong.

No one knew that Plutarch was power-hungry until the assassination of president Paylor took place. Even then, it was too late to stop him from accomplishing his goals, which, to be honest, weren't too different than Snow's. He had ordered Peacekeepers to guard and discipline in each district even before the assassination took place. Of course, everyone thought nothing of it, considering that Paylor had kept her word from the beginning. Even Katniss, the former Mockingjay, the idol of the entire population of Panem, was surprised.

The Districts were almost in another rebellion before the Peacekeepers stepped in. The number of the troops seemed to double, almost triple, in size as compared to Snow's former army, and we learned very quickly that there was nothing we could do. Totally under the power of Plutarch, the rebellion died off in a matter of hours. They had won.

Now, every person from District 12 stood together, holding their breath as they anticipated the dreaded reaping. Since I lived alone, the Montly name was entered a total of seven times; six because of I'm seventeen and once for tesserae. Hopefully, since the numbers are in my odds, my name won't be the one picked out of the glass ball. One can only hope.

The ceremony began as per usual. The mayor took the stage, beginning with a few kind words of encouragement as a futile attempt of lightening the mood. He reminded us that "it is a time for repentance and a time for thanks." _Yeah, okay_, I think to myself, spitting distastefully at the phrase. The response was, again, silence. He sighed audibly, before beckoning a representative of the Capitol to take the stage.

A woman stepped forward, smiling a painfully obvious fake smile. "Welcome," she began, grasping the microphone with her hand, "to the 76th annual Hunger Games Reaping!" There was no response. "May the odds be _ever_ in your favor!" Out of sheer spite, I distorted my face and mimic her accent, cursing under my breath. She introduces herself as Rachel Cauthy, a seemingly fake woman that was forced into her job position by Plutarch. At least, that's what I got out of it. She turned and walked forward to the nearest glass bowl, exclaiming "Ladies first!" before opening the lid and rustled the papers inside for a moment before grasping one with her forefinger and thumb. Taking it out, I can almost hear the heartbeats reverberate throughout the assembly as she crosses back to the podium. "Alice Heart."

Silence. I saw a young girl walk up the stairs, color completely flushed from her face as she shakily made her way to Rachel's side. Nobody said a word as Rachel asked for any volunteers. I couldn't help but pity the girl. She didn't seem to be any older than thirteen, at most, maybe younger. Rachel then paced to the other side of the stage, bending forward to retrieve a second piece of paper before scurrying back to the podium. Again, you could hear the crowd draw in a collective breath before she opened the paper and smoothed it across the edge of the podium frame. "Dean Mellark."

Now normally, that name wouldn't have bothered me the way it did. Hell, I should be relieved that my name wasn't called. But the last name sounded too familiar, and the feeling stuck in my stomach as a boy about my age climbed the stairs, a look of almost defeat creeping across his features, as he took a stand next to Alice. And then it hit me.

That is Katniss's and Peeta's son.

The idea caused me to feel nauseous. First, his parents had to suffer the harshness of the games only to have their son go through the same thing on the first reaping since the Quarter Quell. I scanned the crowd quickly, locking my gaze on Katniss and her husband, Peeta, as she wept on his shoulder, their daughter clinging onto both of them as she stared her brother in the face, her face almost as white as Alice's. I heard my voice holler something before I knew what was going on. "I volunteer!"

This caused quite a scene. First, the whole room fell silent. I heard someone breathing heavily. Was it me? I couldn't tell, but I repeated my words. "I volunteer." I made no facial features readable as I ascended the stairs and refused to look Dean in the eyes. Rachel was positively giddy.

"Oh, don't want Dean to take the spotlight? Well, alright, then. Dean, you're free to leave." Never in my life had I felt my heart flutter the way it was at this very moment. I refused to look up at any of the Mellark's. I couldn't bare to look them in the eyes. I was saved when Rachel pushed the microphone into my face and asked me my name.

"Damian. Damian Montly," I managed to croak out, now realizing that my throat is completely dry. Rachel seemed to take no heed of my nervousness, as she nonchalantly puts her arm over my shoulder, giving me a gentle shake.

During the rest of the assembly, I could feel the stares burning me from every direction. My head was kept down, my hair hiding any eye visibility that would be shown. _Thank goodness for long hair, _I thought, giving my it a little shake. It was only when Alice and I were being ushered of the stage did I look up, my eyes immediately locking with that of Katniss's, whose lips were pursed and eyes were gleaming with relief. She nodded at me, and I returned the favor before we were thrown into a carriage and whisked away from District 12.

-_Chap. 1 fin_-

Let me just say that the Hunger Games trilogy is positively gorgeous in every way possible. Since reading the books, I couldn't stop thinking about what happens next if such and such happened. It's an amazing series and I'm so happy that I read them.

I know this chapter is really, really short, but it's more of a prologue than an actual chapter, but, eh, whatever. I promise that it'll get longer the more the story progresses. I'm not sure if I should hold a contest for tribute spots or not. For right now, the answer is no. But I'll think about it.

Thanks for reading, and, please, any review is appreciated.


	2. The Beginning

_-Chapter 2: It's Only The Beginning-_

The Justice Building Alice and I were escorted to was immaculate, to say the least. It was obvious that neither of us had ever seen something so expensive and new, our mouths agape and eyes wide. The Peacekeepers didn't allow us any time to gawk and immediately sent us into separate rooms. I exchanged Alice a reluctant look before I got locked into my own.

This was supposed to be a time for family members and loved ones to step in and say their last goodbyes. I couldn't help but choke back a sob as I thought about my parents, who would be heartbroken to see what I was doing to myself. Would they be proud? _I hope so_, I thought, sniffing, sitting on the velvet chair, eyeing the upholstery with distasteful relish.

It seemed like just yesterday when I saw them last, their faces dirty and layered with sweat from working, my father mining in the ever-prestigious coal mine District 12 was known for and my mother hard at work in the house. I, of course, was causing mischief and being a typical four year-old. I remember vividly the day the bombs came for the first time. We were all at home, eyes glues on the tiny television set, watching the Quarter Quell.

The noise was like nothing I've ever heard. It was a mixture of a very loud thunderclap and a high-pitched train whistle, only magnified tenfold. The shaking was terrible, and the screams. Oh, dear God, the screams. It filled the air after the first wave of the bombs hit. I remember my father pouncing on top of me as I yelled, hands over my ears, trying to escape the intense ringing my eardrums were now experiencing. He told me to get outside while he helped my mother, who was in the kitchen at the time. I did as I was told, and as I was waiting for them, my house fell down into a heap, landing with a smash. I called and called for what seemed like eternity, but no response came.

A knock came from my door, snapping me back into reality. Someone actually came to see me? I realized I had tears running down my cheek, and quickly wiped them away. "Come in," I hollered, trying to make myself as presentable as possible.

It was all I could do to not break down right then and there as I saw the Mellark's walk through the door, all with the same saddened expression on their faces. At first, it was awkward, all of us staring in silence. After a while of this I avoided their gaze, jaws clenched, unable to look them in the eyes any longer. One by one, each of the Mellark's brought the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and held it out to me. That really hit me home, and I could barely make out a thank you, the words coming out in squeaks. The boy that got picked from the reaping, Dean, stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me. I found myself hugging back. "No, thank _you_." He said, his eyes sincere. Before I could say anything else, the Peacekeepers collected the family and whisked them out without another word. Any feeling of doubt of I may have had has now vanished. I knew that what I did was the right thing.

The ride from the Justice Building to the train station was short. Reporters were already filling up the station the moment we left the Justice Building, cameras pointed in our direction the moment our car pulled up. The Peacekeepers marched Alice and I to the train, reporters shoving microphones in front of our faces the whole way, asking us both various questions. They were barely audible through all the commotion, and I heard Alice sigh as the train doors closed behind us. I looked over at her with a smile and said, "God, they're worse than flies." She only grinned.

We were each shown our own private quarters, consisting of a bedroom, a dressing room and a bathroom with both cold and hot water. Hot water was almost a treat, as we had to boil our water if we wanted to have a hot bath. The bed was enormous, with enough space to hold up to at least four people. _I guess they want us to live in luxury as long as we can_, I thought, _before they kill us_.

I couldn't help but admire the bathroom. The room was accompanied with a large tub in the back corner that could, again, fit four people. I caught glimpse of myself through the mirror. _I look terrible_, I thought, frowning. My dirty blond, almost brown hair was very shaggy, coming down to rest almost right on top of my eyes. _I think I need a haircut_, I couldn't help but think. My eyes met my own eyes, staring at the blue hue for a moment before averting my gaze.

I hear a knock at my door and before I can ask to see who it was, Rachel Cauthy comes in with her usual giddy smile and tells me that dinner will be served soon. I nod my assent and she leaves.

The table was nearly full by the time I arrived. Rachel was facing me, laughing as she took a sip of wine. She motioned over with her free hand to sit down next to Alice. I gave her a smile before I sat, sliding my chair in as far as it would go. Rachel just gleamed at us, legs crossed with wine in hand. I tried my best to act friendly but to no avail. Alice seemed to get fed up with her staring and asked what has been on my mind since I arrived at the table. "What are we waiting for?"

Rachel gave a small 'oh' before saying, "Your mentor, of course." Oh, that's right. Every year, each district is assigned with a mentor who was the victor of the games before us. My eyebrows furrowed.

"But, since Haymitch is dead, who will be..." I stopped short, looking up to see Peeta Mellark walk through the door. My expression must have been humorous because when I glanced at Rachel and she just giggled.

"I guess that answers your question, now doesn't it?" She took another sip of wine. Peeta took a seat next to Alice after nodding courteously to the two of us. Her face showed mixed expressions. At first, shock. Then it switched to indifference. She shrugged the whole situation off and, instead, asked about the food. Of course, Rachel laughed and said, "Right! Waiters!"

The food was almost too much. With Alice and I never having a complete meal, we dove into the food, eating everything we could get our hands on. Rachel just laughed and commented on how we looked like we haven't eaten in days. _If you only knew_, I thought bitterly before I tore a chunk off of a biscuit, and I knew Alice was thinking the same thing.

After dinner, we all gathered into a different room to watch the broadcast of the reaping in every district. We examined all the faces of the unlucky victims called, and only a few stood out most prominent in my mind. A boy with an eye patch from District 2. An eighteen year old girl with white hair from District 9. And, most of all, a burly fifteen year old boy from District 7, with black hair and a look of pure terror on his face. He did seem to calm a bit, though, once he stood with his female counterpart. It was then that I realized something.

Not one person volunteered.

District 12 was shown last, like always. It showed Alice's name being called, with Alice ascending the stairs with all color flushed from her face. Next was Dean, walking forward in complete silence, his face almost on the verge of tears. The silence was almost deafening to listen to, everyone holding their breaths as they watched the son of the Mellark's march to his doom. I almost couldn't look to see what was next, but there I was, pushing through the crowd and yelling to volunteer. I couldn't help but hear the announcer say that the act was for some selfish reason, and I could feel Peeta glance up at me. My fists were in balls, now. The Capitol's anthem was played and the program ended. Awkward silence followed.

"You two should get to bed," he said, breaking the silence. Without looking up, I stormed out of the room, Alice hot on my heels.

"Damian, wait!" she huffed, grabbing my shoulder and spinning me around. "Don't let the Capitol get to you." Was she trying to make me feel better? I blinked, and realized that my fists were still clenched. "You have your reasons, so just let it go. It's just the media. They make up stuff all the time!" I pursed my lips and nodded, mumbling a thanks. She just gave me a small smile before walking to her room. I walked to the other side of the hall before entering into my own room and flopping onto my bed. My eyes feel heavy quickly, and before I knew it, I was out.

_-Chap. 2 fin-  
><em>  
>Here we go, chapter 2. I realize that it's still a little short, but it's longer than the first chapter.<p>

Please, don't forget to review and favorite! You have no idea how much it helps me. Thanks in advance!

Oh, and before I forget, I won't be updating for some time, about a week and a half, I think. I'm going on vacation and I won't have my computer with me, so sorry for the inconvenience. :] 


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